Friendship is an Accident
by headinthecloudsgirl
Summary: Reply to following prompt on the kinkmeme: Matt breaks his arm seriously enough to need surgery. When he wakes up after the operation he can actually feel and taste the metal they used to pin his bones, and he begs for it to be removed. Added some Foggy for the comfort part of h/c :)


**A/N: This is a response to following prompt on the daredevil kink meme:**

 _ **Matt. Broken arm with heightened senses**_

 _(Anonymous) 2016-04-30 06:24 pm (UTC)(_ _link_ _)_

 _Matt breaks his arm seriously enough to need surgery._

When he wakes up after the operation he can actually feel and taste the metal they used to pin his bones, and he begs for it to be removed.

 **Took me some time to wrestle this out, but I just LOVED the prompt :))**  
 **This is not beta-read or edited, I just wanted to get it out there.**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

 _No. Friendship is an accident - O. Henry, Heart of the West_

It didn't even happen during his time "beating the shit out of strangers", as Foggy put it.

Nope.

Thing is, Matt hadn't been sleeping too much these past nights, always out on patrol, putting down the guys who wanted to step into the gap Fisk had left when he had finally been put in jail.

There was no other choice left but to get into the Devil's suit as soon as it was dark and if he was lucky he was stumbling home around maybe half past four in the morning, grab a shower and fall into bed at five. Foggy usually picked him up around eight to walk to the office but thanks to the press form Fisk's arrest, their small neighbour-ly law firm was getting more popular each day, which in turn meant that both Matt and Foggy tried to be in early.

Long story short, Matt's sleeping schedule was even more messed up than normally.

So, actually it wasn't a surprise that something was bound to happen, really.

* * *

"You hungry, Matt?" Foggy peeked into the office of his best friend and tried not to think about Matt probably being able to hear his stomach gurgling in serious need of food.

"Forget that I asked that, you're never hungry. But I am. Karen'll keep watch while we're gone, c'mon."

Matt chuckled and stood, not even grabbing his jacket on his way to Foggy; yet another heat wave was rolling over New York.

"That was surprisingly easy."

"Well, I know a lost cause when I see one – or hear one, rather," Matt said and raised an eyebrow in the general direction of Foggy's stomach as it rumbled again.

Foggy had the decency to blush. "Yeah, well, I _am_ still waiting for the next strawberry-rhubarb crumble. My fridge is empty."

"Mr. Tate brought some more bananas!" Karen chirped in, smirking at the two lawyers.

"Not helping, Karen."

Karen laughed and wriggled her hands in a shooing way. "Just get out of here already. I'll hold the fort."

"Thanks, Karen," Matt smiled at her, unfolded his cane and took Foggy's offered elbow. Some things never change, no matter how enhanced your senses were.

Foggy leading him was a thing between the two of them ever since Foggy had researched something along the lines of "living with a blind dude" during their first semester of college and its subsequent little changes in their friendship. Foggy had stopped offering his arm for a while when he had found out about Daredevil but once he had calmed down enough to actually listen to Matt's explanations and realising, that his best friend was _still_ legally blind with no light perception whatsoever, he took up the habits again.

"So, where do you want to go? That place with the barista that you like?" Matt grinned at him and took the stairs at quite a speed; after counting them endless times, he knew how many steps there were.

"Matt, I'm hungry, not out for a coffee," Foggy replied and sighed. "And I may have already been there on my way to you; I don't want to seem too desperate."

"You could never, my friend," Matt said and fell into step with Foggy, just joking on and not really paying attention to where he was going.

Normally, he kept his senses at a radius that allowed him to be conscious of his surroundings, but right now he was too tired to concentrate on that. It was either let everything in or keep everything out and Matt was currently opting for the second one.

One second, he was walking next to Foggy, just enjoying the company, the next second his right foot caught on something and completely threw him off balance. His left hand was still clutching his cane so that he let go off Foggy to try and catch himself - not the smartest idea, in retrospective. By the time Foggy realised what was happening, he had no chance to catch his friend.

Matt didn't really know what was happening either, just that he was falling and there was nothing to break that fall, except for his now free right arm. Not having time to think about was he was doing, Matt thrust his hand out, landing awkwardly first on his hand and then he just kind of slid forward until he was lying more or less face down on the side walk of a random street in New York City.

How was this his life?

"Matt!"

Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Foggy yell his name but Matt was too focused on breathing. The last time he had felt that much pain had been when Nobu had tried to cut him into pieces. This couldn't be good.

Clenching his teeth and tying to hold back another groan, Matt allowed himself to actually feel what just happened and regretted it almost instantly. His right arm was broken – that much was sure. He'd heard his bones snap and sure as hell could still feel it but there was something else.

"Oh god, Matt, just hold on. It's going to be okay," Foggy, that was Foggy.

Then Matt became aware of the hand on his back and that Foggy was kneeling next to him.

"I wasn't fast enough to catch you, I'm so sorry. Matt, Jesus, that one time we could've used those superhero senses of yours."

"Blasphemy, Fog," Matt groaned and then realised what his best friend had just said. Hopefully any bystanders just took it as an image for the heightened senses everyone deprived of one sense had.

"Buddy, if there is a time blasphemy's okay, I'm pretty sure it's when you _can see a bone sticking out of your friend's freaking arm_!"

"Oh?" So that was why he was hurting so much. He could actually feel his radius piercing through his skin, not much, but enough to be scary.

When that realisation sank in, the pain really hit.

Matt could power through pain, usually, but that was when he was high on adrenaline. Now he had just fallen and suddenly he had an open fracture in the middle of a street – and it hurt really, really bad. That was one more problem with his senses. If cotton felt like sandpaper on his skin, imagine what a broken bone felt like.

* * *

"Matt, I need you to focus on my voice okay? You just went really white, like _scary_ white, and look like you're going to puke. That is not a good idea, when you're lying like that," Foggy said and looked down at Matt again.

He had just seen the man stumble and then, suddenly, he just fell, barely caught himself and broke his arm in the process. His I-am-Daredevil-the-asshole-punching-super-senses-acrobat best friend Matt Murdock.

At first it had seemed like Matt didn't really notice what had happened but some seconds ago, his whole body had suddenly clenched up and all colour had drained from his face.

"There is an ambulance on the way but you can't die until then, you hear me? So work with me here and sit up."

Finally, Matt blinked and found the general direction of Foggy's face, crooked glasses and all.

"You with me now, Matt?"

Foggy still kept his hand on Matt's back, absently rubbing slowly.

"Yeah. Sitting up sounds good," the way Matt was slurring his words was not good. He had to be in a lot of pain for it to be showing so clearly.

"Let me do the work, okay? Just hold that arm still."

Together, the two of them managed to get Matt sitting down, his arm carefully cradled by his left one. Most of the people around knew them, either from childhood days or since the hubbub about their office started, so they thankfully gave Foggy the space they needed, even shooing along those who they weren't familiar with.

It was those maybe five feet of privacy that Foggy way extremely glad for, "Matt, I know you'll hate it, but you cannot fix this at home. Hospital is actually the only option here, okay? So now would be the best time to tell me, if I there's any way I can help."

"Stay."

"Of course I'll – "

"No. Heartbeat. Helps me focus."

It seemed like those words took everything out of Matt who went back to his slow, deep breaths and swallowed hard.

"I'll stay as close as I can get, all right? If we're lucky, Claire's on shift and we can break you out early, huh?"

"Two blocks."

Foggy frowned. "Say what?"

Just then the ambulance pulled up and Foggy shook his head, grinning for a second despite the situation. "Now your senses are up to par?"

The next few minutes passed in a blur for Foggy. They were asked what had happened, Matt's vitals were taken and then they were packed into the ambulance – involving the feigned blindness-related clumsiness from Matt, a nearly avoided meeting with an emesis basin and general mother-henning from Foggy.

Matt had already been given something for the pain and the paramedics had wrapped and splinted the arm, thankfully not even asking anything next to "Are you allergic to anything?", because Foggy was pretty sure that Matt would've said no to the drugs.

As soon as the clear liquid promising sweet relief for his friend had been injected, Foggy reached around the paramedic and took Matt's hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth in what he hoped was a comforting way.

"Focus on me, Matty. It'll be all just fine, you'll see. " He was babbling nonsense again, but he really didn't care.

Some more minutes later and they were at the ER, thank God for that. Foggy was pretty sure that between Matt and him, he was the one with the more troubling vitals; he hated seeing his friend in so much pain.

Matt was rolled into a trauma room, Foggy always right beside him. He didn't even need to pull the "He's blind"-card. Doctors came and went, Matt was taken to get x-rays – you could still _see_ the bone, but whatever – and finally got diagnosed with an open fracture of the radius that needed immediate treatment. At least it was only the radius that needed fixing, it made the break easier to operate, the doctors had said.

"No. Foggy, please."

"Matt, buddy, there is nothing I can do about it. They're already prepping for the operation before your arm swells too much and it would be too late for immediate reduction, okay? If we don't do this, you'd have two operations to look forward to, so let's just do this, all right?"

Breaking the news that Matt had to be operated on went about as well as Foggy should have expected.

"You heard all that crap the doctor told me, didn't you?"

Matt just shook his head and clenched his teeth. "Too hard. Focus."

"Right," Foggy sighed and looked at his friend. "This will not be like the last time you were here, okay? You know what happened, I'll be right here when you wake up. No unexpected life-changing disasters, I promise."

* * *

He shouldn't have promised that.

It wasn't life-changing in any way, but it still was a disaster, if you asked Foggy.

He had followed Matt right up until pre-op, holding his hand throughout all of that. None of the nurses said anything to that and Matt was too far gone to complain.

After some last well-meant words, Foggy had been forced to wait outside of the doors to the OR, left between sitting in an uncomfortable chair with his head in his hands and pacing the corridor.

Foggy had remembered to call Karen about half an hour into the operation, telling her why the hell they were taking so long to get coffee.

He even managed to talk her down form closing the office right away and coming down to Metro-General, taking the deal that she could close up early and make up Matt's apartment as he sure would sign out AMA as soon as he was awake. It was pure coincidence that it was warm enough for Foggy to have left his jacket with his keys – including one to Matt's flat – at the office.

Just two hours after Matt had been rolled into the OR, a doctor in green scrubs had come out, taking off his surgical mask and smiled at Foggy.

"Everything went as expected, we were able to fixate and set the bone and closed the initial wound on Mr. Murdock's arm. We're just putting a cast on him and then you can see him, back in his room. He should still be out for maybe an hour and if everything looks fine, he can go home tonight, as we didn't need an external fixation."

Foggy had sighed in relief and ran a hand through his hair. "That's great! Thank you."

"It's great to have good news. Any preferred colour for the cast? We have some really vibrant pink," the doctor had said with a wink at Foggy.

Foggy had laughed out loud and thought for a moment to ask for red, it would be a nice jab to the costume. Which he would not be able to wear for several weeks. Aaaand there went his determination. "Anything that doesn't get dirty too easily and doesn't look ridiculous when he's wearing a suit?"

"Most go for the blue one, although I have to say black is also a good choice. I suppose drawing on it is not an option if you talk about looking serious?"

"Black actually sounds good, thanks."

That had been about forty minutes ago, now Foggy was standing next to Matt's bed and slowly panicking.

True to the Murdock life-philosophy, Matt didn't stay down long, no matter if he was out in the streets or unconscious because of an anaesthesia. The doctor had told Foggy that Matt should still be out for the count for an hour, but Matt was wide awake thirty minutes after he had been rolled into the room.

* * *

When Matt woke up, sensations came crashing over him like they had all those years ago.

It wasn't a gradual process, but he was more or less snapping awake, suddenly aware of way too many things at once.

"Foggy." Because that had been his lifeline since the very first day of law school.

Not even three seconds went by before he felt a hand on his shoulder and everything in his world on fire just exchanged for _Foggy_.

"Hey, Matt. Everything went fine, you're okay."

Foggy let go of his shoulder and Matt's precious thin thread to the real world just kind of snapped.

He felt his eyelids flutter shut, the smell of everything that was happening in the hospital invading his nose, the taste of disinfectant on his tongue. His skin felt like it was on fire, the hospital sheets as rough as nails and – what was that?

"Oh, God," Matt barely registered that he used the Lord's name in vain, suddenly hypersensitive to the metal holding his radius together.

"Matt, what's wrong, buddy?"

He could feel each molecule of the nails and plate in his arm, could _taste_ the metal, smell it in that strange mixture with his skin and muscle tissue.

"Take it out." Matt wasn't even consciously aware that he was talking, it was just too much. That metal was not supposed to be in his body, he was not supposed to smell or taste like that.

With every breath he drew, Matt could actually feel the metal shifting just ever so slightly, standing out in stark contrast to the natural sounds his bones were making when his lungs expanded.

"Please. God, please take it out! Foggy..."

He wasn't thinking clearly, not even considering that Foggy probably had no idea what he was even talking about. The only thing he knew was that there were nails in his arm that simply did not belong there.

"Foggy, please..."

A hand was back on his shoulder again and some moments later, Matt was able to shift his focus enough from his arm to the world around him, to know that Foggy was talking again.

"Matt, you're really freaking me out, here. Is it the pins? Can you feel those? Talk to me, Matty."

Matt managed to nod his head vaguely, then threw it back with his eyes closed shut, breathing heavily through his nose.

"The metal. I can... I can smell it... taste it. You have to get it out, Foggy."

"Jesus, Matt. You can taste the – never mind. Listen, I can't take it out okay? You busted your arm pretty good, you need those pins. I'm sorry, bud, but you'll have to get used to them," Foggy said and Matt could hear the thumping of his friend's heart, accelerated because he was feeling with him.

Getting used to the needles? For the next –what? Six weeks? That was nothing short of impossible.

Matt felt Foggy sweeping his thumb over his cheek and only then noticed the silent tears running down his face.

"Listen to me, Matt, okay? Just concentrate on me. Listen to my heart, my voice, breathing, whatever you need. Focus on my hands. My smell. I bet you can even taste the lunch I had three days ago, right? Focus on that. Only me. Not the stuff that might be in your arm, all right?"

Matt took a deep breath and slowly blew it back out, using every technique of centring that Stick had ever taught him and just tried to let _Foggy_ in.

With every inhale, he was able to concentrate his senses more, got more attuned to Foggy.

"Your breathing's better. Keep doing whatever it is you're doing. This is just like clothing, or shoes, or Karen's perfume. You can tune those things out, right?"

Matt nodded and slowly understood where Foggy was going with this.

"Well, if you can tune that stuff out, you can do it with the pins as well. Give it some days and it'll be just like they've always been there. Like you got used to those freaky senses in the first place. As soon as you say it's okay, I'm gonna get a doctor, we'll sign you out and get home. No extra-information that messes with your head. Sound good?"

Matt blew out the latest breath, squeezed Foggy's hand with his left one and tried a crooked smile.

"Yeah, sounds good."

* * *

 **A/N: I think that's it for now :)**

 **I'd be a really happy girl if you dropped me a line :D**


End file.
